


Knots

by fengirl88



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Bondage, Developing Relationship, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Sexual Fantasy, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:18:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fengirl88/pseuds/fengirl88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It's called shibari,” Charles says, stroking the back of Erik's neck. “Japanese rope bondage. It's really an art.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knots

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the xmfc_bingo "shibari" square. Thanks to thimpressionist for encouraging me to write this one.
> 
> No archive warnings apply, but see endnotes for further content information.

Erik stares at the picture on Charles’s laptop: a naked man uncomfortably posed on a hard wooden chair, his back arched, and his whole body criss-crossed by an elaborate pattern of scarlet ropes that stand out against his pale skin. 

“It's called shibari,” Charles says, stroking the back of Erik's neck. “Japanese rope bondage. It's really an art.”

Erik shivers at his touch, but also at the ideas Charles’s voice conjures up in his mind.

 _Ropes_. 

(He'd thought at first Charles was joking when he said he’d taken an evening class on ropework, “50% sailing enthusiasts, 50% bondage queens, though there might have been a bit of overlap, two colours of rope so you could see the knots properly.”)

He imagines being tied up like that, helpless and exposed, his powers useless… He could summon a knife, but how long would it take to cut himself free? 

Worse, he imagines being put on _display_ , like a sculpture or a painting, for all the world to see. His throat is suddenly dry and his clothes feel too tight.

He wants to look away from the image on the screen, but he can’t. He’s angry and scared at his body's involuntary response and what it means. He hates not being in control, but he knows there's something in him that wants it too, that wants to find out what it feels like to trust a partner that much, to _give_ someone that of your own free will rather than having it taken from you.

“You know we’d stop the minute you said the word,” Charles says, pushing his fingers up into Erik's hair and scratching at his scalp, gently at first and then harder.

Erik bites back a moan and leans into Charles's touch, closing his eyes. He _does_ know; but he imagines himself panicking, thrashing around as Charles tries to untie him, all of his movements only making the knots tighter...

“We don't have to do it at all if you don’t want to,” Charles says, and kisses the side of Erik's neck. He slides his arms around Erik’s waist and holds him, just tight enough. “I think it's beautiful, and I think _you'd_ be beautiful like that. But we don't have to do everything one or other of us fantasises about.”

Erik turns in his embrace and they kiss, gentle at first and then fiercer, harder. It’s a kiss full of all the things Erik doesn’t have words for, all that wild confusion of wanting and fearing, anger and lust and revolt. Too much and not enough; he breaks away, gasping for breath.

 _Can I show you?_ Charles's voice says in his head. He sounds more tentative than Erik's used to hearing him, but also so full of longing that Erik can't say no.

 _Go on then_ , he projects, and feels a surge of pleasure and arousal from Charles in response.

He'd thought he was prepared for it, but the image is so powerful it takes his breath away. Seeing himself like that, naked and bound and erect, and Charles touching him where the knots press into his skin, gazing at him in wonder and joy, bending his head to Erik's straining cock and licking the precome that glistens at the tip, closing his lips around Erik's cockhead and sucking it, like an act of worship, Charles's mouth as red as the ropes against Erik's skin...

Erik groans and tackles Charles onto the bed, both of them pulling at each other’s clothes in a clumsy flurry of undressing. The shock of skin on skin is so good it makes them both gasp, even after all these months. He pins Charles to the mattress and ruts against him till he sees stars, feels the explosion of Charles's orgasm answering his.

“You liked that?” Charles says, when he can speak again. He’s not gloating; it’s a serious question.

“I did,” Erik admits, because he can hardly say he didn’t. “Still don't know if I'd want to _do_ it, though.”

“It's a lot to trust someone with,” Charles says, his voice carefully neutral. 

They don’t talk about what happened with Sebastian, what he did to Erik, but it’s still there between them. Maybe it always will be.

“If I could with anyone, you know it would be you,” Erik says, though it's an effort to say even that much. 

“I know,” Charles says, and pulls him close.

They lie there, quiet and still, breathing each other in, till sleep overtakes them at last.

**Author's Note:**

> Contains brief (non-graphic) references to a past abusive relationship.
> 
> I imagine the images in this fic as somewhere between these **seriously NSFW[two](http://exponential63.tumblr.com/post/50648672312/god-thats-beautiful) [images](http://tahariels.tumblr.com/post/51000271096/takhesiz-because-erik-is-hardcore-and-i-am-a) from Tumblr.**


End file.
